Blue Skies and Red Berries
by Aia Emma
Summary: Lovino is a star soccer player who can't play because of bad grades. Antonio is perfect but doesn't care. When Lovi's twin dies will Antonio teach him that life is more than scoring the winning goal?


**Pairing**: SpainxRomano

**Setting**: AU High School Setting

**Rating**: T (for Lovino's mouth, minor sexual references, character death)

**Summary**: Lovino is a star soccer player but due to his lack of good grades in the classroom he has been suspended from the school team. Then comes along Antonio who is perfect but needs to learn to do the best thing for himself. How will Antonio make Lovino realize there is more to life than the winning goal?

**Author's note: **This story is based off of my older brother's exact same struggles. The star player who lacks the grades. All of the information in here is what I have picked up from his and my father's conversations around home. If any of it is incorrect please tell me, and I will correct it! Thank you and enjoy!

It was a perfectly normal day of boring classes in the life of Lovino Vargas, aka me. Everything was the same as yesterday. Simple routine of waking up, eating breakfast, going to school, getting yelled at by annoying teachers for cussing people out, serving detention, then going home and doing homework. The only thing different today was that my younger brother Feliciano was home sick, so things were much quieter around school. Also, I didn't have to beat up a goddamn German today because of Feli being to clingy. I swear my little brother is too fucking dumb at times! I mean, seriously, he always acts so whore like around the same guy and gets mad at me when I beat the shit out of said dude! What's worse however, is when that stupid Spanish guy is in my classes. I mean seriously, why me? I hate 2nd, 5th, and 7th period all because that Antonio. Why does he have to always act so perverted! He wouldn't be half as bad if he didn't hang out with Francis and Gilbert though. There are just some people who are born to be perverts, I guess.

Ugh. Right now the teacher was rambling on and on about some stupid subject that I'll probably fail on the test. All I want at this moment is to be out on the soccer field faking out an opponent. Dribbling, pulling off a scissor trick, going one way, then another, weaving through players, up to the box to strike a beautiful kick into the upper left corner of the goal. Then cheering with my teammates about me scoring us the winning goal! But, that wouldn't happen anytime soon and I knew that. Because of my goddamn horrible grades I had been suspended from the soccer team till I had at least a C in every class. I wish such a stupid rule didn't exist. I knew what my calling was, and it sure as hell wasn't this. It was on the soccer field. I was a great player, if only I could play. And that was the problem. I was a junior in high school, and at this point, if I even _dreamed_ of getting a scholarship to a university for soccer, I had to be playing. I had to be on the field wowing them _and_ getting good test scores. No matter how good I was, if my GPA stayed at a 1.5 like it was currently, no way in hell am I going to college.

I had the skill to play at college level, definitely Division 1, but, not the brains to go to a school with a good team. That was the drawback. Unless I was scouted for the MLS in high school, which is almost impossible, there was no way I'm playing soccer for a career later. So, right now, no matter how much I wanted to be on the field, I had to be in the classroom learning. I wish it wasn't so difficult! That's why I hate Antonio. He has the grades to get a scholarship, and the skills, but he doesn't even want to go to college! I wish I was him so much right now! If only I could be smart like him! Or artistic like Feli! Why was it always me that got the short end of the stick?

"Mr. Vargas, what year did America gain independence from Great Britain?" the teacher suddenly asked me, breaking me from my thoughts.

"I don't give a fuck. Ask someone else bastard!"

"Detention! We do not use such language in class Lovino! This is the third time this week! Go to the counselor's office right this instant!"

Well damn. That didn't turn out to well. I grudgingly stood up, collected my stuff, and walked out of the room. Not to the counselor's office though. No way in hell was I going there. I'm going to just go sit on the lawn. Maybe go to the soccer pitch and practice my shooting. I mean, the teacher has no clue if I go to that freak of a counselor's office or not, so why _should _I go there? The only problem right now was making sure he wasn't found out. Oh well. It's not like anyone would tell if they saw him because no one wants to be caught in Lovino Vargas's wrath anyway. The last time someone told about me skipping class they ended up in the infirmary with two broken fingers and a lot of bruises. After that no one, not even teachers cared if he skipped class to go play soccer. In fact, some people even skipped class themselves to see me playing soccer. Apparently I was the 'bad boy' girls loved. Well screw them!

I walked to the field slowly and once I got there casually took a ball and immediately striked a beautiful shot. Of course it was beautiful though. I mean, my main position _was_ stiker. If I wasn't good at shooting I wouldn't play the position I play. I always was the best with my shots. I could place them perfectly and my form was phenomenal I had been told. It was just natural though to me. I never had to work at it like the other kids in grade school. I just _knew_ what to do. It was like breathing. I didn't have to think about what I was doing. Soccer was, and always will be, my release from the outside world. The breakaway that everyone needed. For some it was music, others it was writing or art, but for me, it was soccer. It calmed me down. It made me forget all the shit that was going on in my life. And it was something I could make a career out of. And that's what I planned to do.

"Hey, you're pretty good at that!" a voice called across the field. Why did I recognize that voice? I turned to look and it was that damned tomato bastard Antonio.

"What do you want? Don't you have class right now?"

"I could say the same thing to you. Skipping again, dear Lovi?"

"What the fuck is a Lovi? And no! My teacher told me to go to the counselor's office!"

"So instead you came here? You do know that only soccer team members are allowed on the field right?"

"I'm officially on the team, simply suspended from playing until my grades get higher. Nothing you would know of course. Stop being so nosy and leave already!"

And with what I just said, he left. Oh well. It's his fault for being a nosy bastard. That's what you get for disturbing me while I'm practicing. But damn. It's already lunch time. Oh well. No point in staying out here then. Might as well go eat then come back. But, why do I feel bad about telling that Antonio to go away? It's nothing I bet. Maybe I'm finally going soft. I bet the teachers are pissed at me right now. Well fuck them!

-:~*~:-

After eating lunch I went to my 5th period class: AP Biology. You see, I'm not stupid; I just simply refuse to pay attention and do homework. My ACT score is a 29. That is pretty good mind you. It's just that I don't see why I have to do homework or pay attention if I'm smart enough to get a score like that. I mean, homework is to reinforce what the teacher has taught right? So why if I get it the first time, do I have to repeat it? It makes no sense. Feliciano always tries to explain that the teacher needs proof that I know it, but then why not look at my fucking test scores? They are all A's. Oh well.

I actually sat through the teacher's lecture today and toke notes. I didn't cuss anyone out either. I decided that if this is what it takes to play soccer again, I may as well at least try it. Right?

"Lovino Vargas? Phone call from the office. You might want to come here." The teacher suddenly called after he finished whispering to the school secretary who had just came in.

"What the hell is it? Just tell me already!"I called back to the teacher unamused.

"This is private and serious Mr. Vargas."

"Fine." I replied walking to follow the secretary out of the room.

She looked sad in a way but didn't say anything to me until we got to the main office where she handed me a phone.

"Hello?" I spoke once I got the phone.

"Is this Lovino Vargas?" a person on the other end asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Mr. Vargas, your brother Feliciano is in the hospital right now in critical condition. He has severe pneumonia and is at a high risk of not surviving. Your grandfather brought him today at around 9:37 am when he reportedly had a fever of 103ᵒ F. He said you should be notified. Thank you for your time. Visiting hours at the hospital are brother has requested you. " And with that they hung up.

I sunk to the ground. The tears already flowing from my eyes freely. This didn't make any sense to me right now. Feli had seemed fine just last week! I mean I knew he was sick, but, he was so sick he wasn't going to live? My twin couldn't die! Why did this happen to me? Feliciano, he's just always so happy, I can't even begin to picture him in pain and dying. And with those thoughts swarming my head, I passed out cold.


End file.
